


To Stone

by Rina_san28



Series: Pride Month 2018 [24]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bittersweet Ending, Can be read as stand-alone, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Lesbian Urbosa, Multi, Past Character Death, pride 2018, resurrection AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 07:31:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15068213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina_san28/pseuds/Rina_san28
Summary: Urbosa goes to see them, one hundred and three years later.Written for Pride Month 2018 Day 26: Remembering





	To Stone

**Author's Note:**

> I had planned this scene from the beginning. I know it's like two hours late, but I really wanted to get it right. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“Are you ready?”

 

The desert was cold. The morning sun was only a hint of light on the horizon, and its absence was felt in the sharp chill that seeped into Urbosa’s bones. She shivered, wrapping her cloak tighter as she stared forward into the ruins.

 

“Urbosa?”

 

The Gerudo woman turned and attempted to smile at her companions. “Little bird, when have you known me to not be ready?”

 

Zelda shot her a look. “Now is a good example. You’re stalling.”

 

“…You may be right,” Urbosa said after a moment. She forced herself to take a step forward, then another, and another, and another, until finally she stood at the broken gate to the royal burial grounds. For a heartbeat, she considered turning on her heel and running the other direction, but before she could fully decide one way or another, Link appeared at her side.

 

“It took me six months after I remembered my grandparents to go and find their graves,” he signed, “and another nine to work up the nerve to visit them. If you want to go back, we can, but I think we both know what you need to do.”

 

Urbosa tried to hold his gaze, but let her head drop after only a few seconds. “What if it was your baby in there?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “What if it was Zelda?”

 

Link pursed his lips, one hand dropping to stroke the soft, down hair of the sleeping babe strapped to his chest. “It would hurt…but I’d like to believe that if our positions were reversed, you would be giving me this same talk.”

 

Zelda stepped up on her other side and took Urbosa’s large hand in her own small one. “Urbosa,” she said softly, “come.” Slowly, gently, she pulled the Gerudo woman inside.

 

It was, of course, a mess. Some statues had been broken off by monsters for building material, while others had been worn down by time. Urbosa could remember trips to the grounds with her own mother, lying food and jewelry as gifts on special days to honor the departed. Never in her worst nightmares had she pictured taking those gifts to her own beloved daughters, let alone her wife.

 

Yet there she was.

 

After a walk that seemed to last both a million years and no time at all, Zelda stopped them in front of a line of newer statues. As tradition called for, the graves were marked with true-to-life statues of the deceased chief, with the same done for any other family members.

 

It was unsettling to look into your own face, Urbosa decided as she stared at her tomb. Every detail was impeccable, from the angle of her nose to the curve of her calf. This, she realized with a punch of grief, was Nirah’s work.

 

“Now I know how Mipha and Daruk feel,” Urbosa said aloud.

 

Link snorted. “Mipha’s been begging her father to take the statue down since the moment she got back to the Domain, but he won’t. Sidon says she covers her eyes whenever she has to walk past it. Daruk’s solution seems to just be not looking up.”

 

Urbosa smiled slightly. “It looks like Revali lucked out in that area.”

 

“Not quite,” Zelda said. “He still has a take-off zone named after him.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Urbosa steadied herself and moved to the next statue in the line. She closed her eyes, leaned forward, and rested her forehead against the cold stone of the statue’s base. “Hello, my love.”

 

Nirah looked almost exactly the same as she had the day Urbosa had left for Mount Lanayru. Her arms were full of books, ink was smeared across her face…but time, however short, showed its toll on her. The eyes of her statue were tired, sad, and her cheeks were too hollow. Her glorious hair, the thick, maroon locks Urbosa had so loved to run her hands through, were prematurely threaded white and lay in a simple, limp que over her shoulder.

 

“Her epitaph says she ruled bravely in the face of great loss,” Zelda read. “One would never have thought the role wasn’t meant to be hers.”

 

“Do you remember her, Link?” Urbosa asked, her eyes never leaving her wife’s stone face.

 

“I do,” he said. “When I met her for the first time she greeted me in sign, and Sanji let it slip that she’d started learning it the moment I was assigned to Zelda.” The baby fussed, and Link automatically began to bounce her soothingly. “It’s still one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me.”

 

“At Mother’s funeral, while you were handling the diplomatic greetings with my father, Nirah pulled me aside and asked me how I was feeling. All of those people, all of the hours and hours and hours of standing and talking and playing brave, and you and Nirah were two of only four people to come and check on me,” Zelda said.

 

“Who were the others?” Link asked.

 

“Mipha came and took me to get food at one point,” Zelda said her lips quirking up slightly, “and Impa slept in my nursery for three days.”

 

“We would have taken you,” Urbosa said, “but I was heavily pregnant at the time. Sanji came two weeks later.”

 

Zelda grinned, looking over at her own child. “I completely understand.”

 

“Shall we continue?” Link signed, drawing them back to the present.

 

Urbosa grimaced, then nodded. “Yes, please.” Her throat clenched as the man led them to the next statue.

 

“This is…” Zelda brushed sand off of the pedestal. “This one is Lenai. Died saving the chief from a Yiga assassin, it says. Oh, Urbosa…”

 

“She was just a baby when I left,” Urbosa whispered. “Only a few months older than your Ellie.”

 

Lenai had turned into almost a carbon copy of Nirah, except for the blessing of Urbosa’s considerable height. Her chin was held high, and her statue clutched a curved blade in each hand. Urbosa didn’t need to examine them closer to recognize them as her own.

 

“She loved to chew on my hair,” Zelda said.

 

“At least it was your hair she picked on,” Link said. “She much preferred to pinch my neck whenever I held her.”

 

“That’s because you always held her like you thought you’d drop her,” Urbosa pointed out. “For the son of a midwife, you were terrified of babies.”

 

“She was so wiggly!” Link protested. “Not to mention that Gerudo babies are ridiculously strong compared to Hylian babies! Lenai at birth could have taken Ellie now in a fist fight.”

 

“You say that like your daughter has been in a fist fight in her six months of existence.”

 

“With herself,” Link said. “Limb control really isn’t her strong suit quite yet.”

 

Urbosa huffed a laugh, then sighed. “I wish there was still someone around who remembered her,” she said wistfully, trying to commit her youngest’s face to memory. “She never married, never birthed or adopted any children. The guards she trained with are long gone. I have nothing but memories of a baby doing her best to walk the meter between the lounger and her toybox.”

 

“I’ll do a check of the archives when we get back,” Zelda promised, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Surely there must be some record left behind about her.”

 

“If there is one, I know you’ll find it,” Urbosa said. She stepped further down the line of graves. “Sanji is next.”

 

Sanji had been just a few weeks away from her eleventh birthday when the Calamity rose. The statue, however, depicted a chief in her prime with a sword on her belt, a shield on her arm, and the Thunderhelm raised in her right hand. Though she had Urbosa’s coloring, her face – and height, she noted with some amusement – came from Nirah.

 

“Married to Cissa, a famed Gerudo tailor,” Urbosa said, scanning the epitaph. “I remember her. Shy girl, a little older than Sanni. Her mother made my wedding clothes.”

 

“It all comes around, I suppose,” Zelda said. “So…” She pointed at another statue just behind Sanji’s. “That would be her?”

 

Urbosa followed her gaze and laughed. “Oh, that is definitely her. Brightest red hair I have ever seen on a Gerudo. Most likely got that from her father.” She looked back at her eldest daughter. “Riju told me what she remembered of her. She said she was strong and quiet, but quick to laugh. Never raised her voice outside of official duties.”

 

“That’s how she and Link got on so well,” Zelda said.

 

“Yup,” Link said. “She barely spoke and I didn’t say a thing at all. Great system.” He looked closer at her. “Are those throwing knives around her ankle?”

 

“They are,” Urbosa said with a proud smile. “She always had a good arm.”

 

“Remember when she nailed Revali in the face with her pudding at the one meeting you brought her to?” Link chuckled. “I’m praying Ellie has the good sense to do the same.”

 

“The one and only meeting she came to, yes,” Urbosa said, “and if Ellie doesn’t fling food at Revali at least once by the time she’s two, I will do it myself.”

 

“Why wait?” Link joked. “You can teach her how next time you come over.”

 

“Come on,” Zelda scolded, though she sounded more amused than anything. “He’s getting better. Slowly.”

 

“Glacially.”

 

While the couple was distracted, Urbosa slipped over to the final statue. The woman was small, but well-built, with smooth red hair and a confident smirk on her face. These days, Urbosa saw that smirk nearly everywhere she went. This, then, was Naru, Riju’s mother.

 

“I had always hoped for a granddaughter,” she whispered to the statue, placing her hand on the pedestal. “Your people sing your praises, child, your Makeela loudest of all. Thank you for her. She leads well, despite her age, and I can tell she will stand among the greatest of them all.” She gave the stone a pat, then stepped back. “I will return here. Perhaps by then I’ll sound less like a maudlin old woman and more like myself.

 

“Link! Zelda!” she called. “We need to leave if we want to beat the sun.”

 

Link glanced at the horizon and nodded, tugging up the scarf sling to cover his daughter’s head. “Right.” His face softened. “Did you find what you needed?”

 

Urbosa smiled, genuine and pure. “I do believe I did, dear. I do believe I did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ellie, short for Elliana, is Link and Zelda's daughter, an unexpected (but certainly not unwelcome!) addition. She's a total daddy's girl. 
> 
> I'm rina-san28 on Tumblr!


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